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Reposted for  Sally, Sandy, and Stephanie. Three important ladies in my life.

Where is that inner child,
why did it depart-
And take with it the stories,
That were close unto your heart

From Mother Goose to Tennyson's
"Idyll's of the King",
folklore and fairy tales-
Of which the minstrels sing

Knights in shining armor,                  
atop their steeds of grace-
Protecting king and country
as they ride from place to place

There’s Jack and his stalk of beans,
“Lil Red and her hood-
Hansel, and his sister-
traips'n thru the wood

Rainbows and leprechauns,
elusive pots ‘o’ gold,
Oh, how many, many times have these
tales been told-

Fairies ‘neath the mushroom caps,
elves in their acorn hats,
Dancing 'neath the moon-ring light-
as fireflies flicker, to the “music
of the night”

And from the heavens, a horse appears-
adorned with wings of flight-
And from its head, a single horn-
the pure, and blessed, unicorn.

The minstrels, with their lutes and lyres-
amused the population-
But, could it be, these tales be true,
or just your imagination?

That inner child, it's still there
It hasn’t gone away-
It just needs to be awakened-
on perhaps, this very day*.


r.riddle December 18, 2010-Copyright
(from September, 2015)

An omen, a portent-
heralding the coming
of autumn and winter-
As Orion graces heaven's center stage

Mornings  become more crisp-
the aroma of fresh, hot coffee,
Permeating  from a cup on the patio table,
forces the senses to ask for more.

Fireplaces will send wisps of smoke
up their chimneys and over rooftops,
Adding to the exhilaration of knowing
that it's going to be a "good day."

If only the concrete could change colors-
as do the leaves.


copyright: richard riddle-September 11, 2015
Dawn and night-clouds part the horizon,
Dark muddy blues turn suddenly light
Spilling change on her hues as she rises,
And oh that fullness of sight.

Glow of greeting bequests later heat-time,
Brazen sun brooks no trace of the night.
She aims to captivate dark guilelessly
With oh such flourish of style.

Her blush in pale sky flashes a brightness
Over first tremble of her prelude to fire.
She welcomes day by blazing sublimely  
In oh what a show of surprise
 Apr 2017 Robert Andrews
Wyatt
Been dodging death
multiple times
because I'm blessed.
I cannot act like it's all me.
I cannot point to myself,
I point up.

Even in my worst moments
he did not abandon me.
I do not deserve a thing,
I deserve death but he
still believes in me
and I believe in him.
I point up.

Air in my lungs,
strength past my weakness.
I'm feeling close to loss a lot,
but I never run on empty.
This isn't because of me,
I point up again.
You watch over me
and deliver to me
so many blessings.
A hand to pull me
from the quicksand.
The will has been used
to help me out of it.
I can back myself into a wall,
he'll create a secret escape.
In times of trouble,
he delivers me through alive.
On a bumpy ride, but I leave alive.
Cannot ignore the blessings.
I'm here only because of them.
You can **** me,
you can put me down,
you can send hell my way
but I'll always point up,
up to God.
 Apr 2017 Robert Andrews
Traveler
Could love be a valley
Where greener grass grows
Where time stands still
In hearts of gold?

Where dreamers await
Those unable to believe
A hundred years
Drifting at sea?

Is there love
Down there
Down deep
In your soul
Down there
On your knees
That you're
Begging for?

Is that love
Is that love
Anymore?
TRAVELER TIM
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